❝ can i count on you to do what needs to be done? ❞ / @satiress
Again, she stops mid-turn, hand closer towards reaching the knob of the door than before, and another regret to add to her growing list. Of the others: agreeing to be the frontwoman for Lyra’s complex plan.
The longer the two women stand outside the shop, the more people pass, and more suspicious Laera believes the two of them look: Whispering to each other, Lyra occasionally hollering ‘ wait! ’, and right back to whispering, along with very punctuated gestures -- presumably of hypothetical violence -- should things take a turn for the worse. Mixed into all of that is are several well placed groans of annoyance from the fighter.
❝ Can I trust you let me do it? Shite, Lyra, I ‘aven’t even walked in yet! ❞ Her frustrations are obvious; the meticulousness Lyra displays is one she assumes to be common for a bard... or for someone who genuinely can’t make plans. She wants to ensure this goes well; Laera gets it, because if it doesn’t, she’ll be the one with a fist to her face, not Lyra. ❝ Once more, aye? I was picked up ‘long way by your caravan, and offered to ‘elp escort your goods. Highwaymen waylaid us not too far down the road, and I was ‘oping you’d ‘elp pull it out of the ditch. ❞ A breath, her thoughts stuttering to recall whatever insanity Lyra has heaped onto this plan, ❝ Uh... and when ‘e’s out... we ‘it ‘im over the ‘ead, and force ‘im to tell us ‘ho ‘is supplier is. Or something. ❞ It’s not perfect, but it will have to do.
